Pact
by SF3P0X1
Summary: A re-telling of the story of Frozen, but genderbent. "Wanna have a snowball fight?"
1. Chapter 1

Edward Fröz, age 6, lay fast asleep in his bed. His brother Andrew Fröz, age 5, would have been doing the same if he had not been filled with the wondrous energy of boyhood innocence. With the light of the full moon filtering through the window, the young Andy crept silently from his bed across the room to his brother's. He climbed nimbly up the four-post bed and flopped upon the mountain of covers that hid the form of his sleeping sibling.

"Psst. Eddie. You asleep yet?" Andrew bounced on the mountain of blankets, and was rewarded with a grunt and the sound of Edward rolling over underneath his protective layer. "Wake uuuup."

"Go back to bed, Andy. How can you still be awake?" The muffled sound of his brother's sleepy murmuring wafted up through the pile of cloth.

"The moon's out and it's too bright and anyways I'm not tired one bit!" Andy answered excitedly.

The pile of blankets suddenly erupted from below and Andrew was sent tumbling off the bed. "Go back to bed and let me sleep," grunted Edward.

Andrew sat there for a moment, contemplating, then grinned to himself and climbed up to the the top of the bed once more.

"... wanna have a snowball fight?"

Edward could never resist the chance to beat his brother in anything competitive. Slowly the covers rolled back, and from them appeared Eddie's smirking form. "Do you really want to lose?"

Andy said nothing, launching himself from the bed and taking off to, and through, the bedroom door. Eddie was not far behind.

The castle walls were silent at this time of night, and a little bit creepy. The two boys paid the ambiance no mind as they ran to the perfect spot in the place: the castle ballroom. The two doors swung open into the massive space and the two boys ran in, with Andy stopping just long enough to close the doors behind them.

The boys huddled together in the center of the room. Eddie had his eyes closed and was waiting patiently, while Andy ran circles around his brother, impatient. "C'moooooooon! Do the thing!"

Eddie grinned before forming a smooth snowball in his hand and throwing it at his brother. The snow impacted on the young boy's face, then spread out behind him and lifted into the air, becoming a constant flow of snow that soon left the ballroom blanketed in perfect white. He followed this feat by creating a bucket and small shovel out of ice for Andrew to use to build his defenses, while he created an elaborate wall of ice for himself.

It took Andrew a good ten minutes to build what he called the "Perfect Guard," and soon both boys were ready with snowballs. The battle began, with both sides pelting each other's walls with little snow bullets, hoping to bring them down and destroy the combatant on the other side. Fifteen minutes into the battle, Edward's ammo began to run low.

He knelt to make more snowballs, and while he was distracted, Andy snuck over the line and dropped a gigantic snowball on his head. He erupted in laughter, and Eddie followed suit. The two shared a good laugh, sitting back to back behind Edward remarkable, but transparent, ice wall.

"We'll be brothers for the rest of our lives, right Eddie?" Andy asked his brother as the giggled slowly subsided. Eddie gave the boy a strange look in response. "I mean," he clarified, "we'll be king and prince respectively when our parents are gone. You're not gonna kick me out of the castle when you've finally got it all to yourself, will you?"

Edward laughed. "Of course not! What would give you that idea?"

Andrew sighed, his face losing that cheesy smile it usually carried. "I guess it's just a bad dream. I keep getting the feeling that you're going to shut me out for some reason."

Edward embraced his brother. "I'm not going to shut you out, Andy. Not for any reason."

Andrew loosed himself from his brother's grip, darted over to his wall, and grabbed the small shovel his brother had created for him. He broke the shovelhead from the tool on the ice wall his brother had built and knelt back at Edward's side.

"Let's make a blood pact, then, Eddie. A pact between us that we will never shut the other one out, no matter what happens." With his left hand he held up the shaft of the shovel, its end sharp and pointed, and held out his right hand towards his brother.

"A blood pact? Is that really necessary?" Eddie questioned his brother.

"Well, if'n you're too chicken..." was Andy's response.

"... okay. Let's make a blood pact," Eddie finally relented.

Andrew grinned, then with a small yelp of pain he drove the point of the ice shaft into the palm of his right hand. A puddle of blood formed as he passed the shaft to his brother.

Edward sighed, then drove the shaft into the palm of his right had as well. It hurt for a couple seconds, but that subsided as the two brothers shook hands, swearing to each other that they'd never shut the other out. With the seriousness over, the innocent smile of boyhood returned to Andrew's face.

"Hey, can you teach me how to ice skate?" Andrew asked his brother. He had always admired Edward's mastery over ice, and the power that seemed to emanate from his hands. Anything that had to do with ice and winter, Edward could do perfectly without needing practice, while Andrew always had to work at it. He had never been ice skating before.

"Sure. Let me clean up a little..." Edward stood and raised his hands, the snow and ice around them lifting into the air and forming a massive snowball overhead, which exploded and dropped to the floor. The floor encased itself in ice, with snow banks forming around the ballroom pillars for protection and padding. Eddie didn't play around with his brother's safety.

Next, the young prince created a pair of ice skates for his brother, and helped him to stand on them. He stood back to back with his brother and, with the help of his ice powers acting as a propulsion system, Eddie pushed Andy around the ballroom on the ice. This lasted all of about ten minutes before Andrew purposely threw himself into one of the snow banks.

Edward yawned. It was getting to be early morning, and the sky was beginning to lighten as the sun prepared for its daily journey through the sky. "Aren't you ready for bed yet? Aren't you tired yet?"

Andrew said nothing, and Edward didn't see him come out of the snow bank.

"Andy?"

Edward rushed to the snow bank and spotted Andrew laying spread eagle on the ground. The young boy had jettisoned into the snow bank with such force that the snow's protective padding had given way, and Andy had hit his head on one of the marble pillars that littered the floor. There was no blood, but a knot the size of an apricot had formed above the young man's left eye.

"Andrew!" Edward shook his brother's shoulder, trying to wake him up. He placed his hand on the knot and concentrated, applying cold to reduce the swelling. The sound of the ballroom doors opening broke his concentration and he pushed more power into the knot than he intended, reducing the swelling to nothing, but turning the tips of his brother's flowing black locks white. He gasped, removing his hand, but then gathered his brother into his arms and wailed.

"Momma! Poppa!" A hand alighted on his shoulder and he looked up, staring right into the eyes of his father. "I... I was trying to get the swelling down from where he bumped his head and now he's out cold and his hair's all strange and I think I did it to him and I'm so scared! I just wanted him to be healthy and happy!"

His father, the king, hugged his two boys tightly and whispered that everything was going to be okay. He strode to one of the bookcases lining the walls and pulled out an old tome. He flipped through the pages, then stopped when a map fell out. "I know how to fix this."

* * *

In the middle of a forest clearing, a royal horse came to a stop, and three males descended from their perch. The king, in all his glory, cradled a young boy with white-frosted black hair in his arms. Another boy with white hair climbed down after the king, and all three stood in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by boulders of indeterminate number and varying sizes. The king cleared his throat, and called into the clearing, "We need your help."

The boulders seemed to start moving on their own, rolling into the center of the clearing and surrounding the royal family. As they came to a stop, every boulder seemed to jump in place, and as they came down they adapted arms, legs, and faces. These were trolls.

"It's the king!" exclaimed one of the trolls in a distinctive female tone, and the sea of trolls parted back to let a large boulder roll through. The large troll popped open in front of the king, and his majesty knelt to speak to it, while simultaneously opening his arms to reveal the young boy swaddled in warm cloths.

"There is strange magic at work here," the troll leader said, as he took the unconscious boy's hands in his own. "You're lucky," he continued, "that it was your son's head that was affected. The head is easily changed. The heart takes a bit more... persuading."

The king watched on as the elder troll took images from his son's head. "Can you fix it?"

The troll sighed. "Your son's hair will remain frosted from this endeavor, but perhaps it is best that I remove all traces of magic from his memory. I will leave the fun and adventure, but all knowledge of magic arts will need to be kept secret from him."

"Ev... even mine?" Edward finally spoke up.

The troll nodded. "Your bond is strong, but unless you can learn to control your power, you may end up killing your brother, even while trying to help him. There is great strength in this power, and with it comes great responsibility. If you do not learn how hone your power and to shoulder this responsibility, the world will see you as a monster." After modifying young Andrew's memories, the elder troll gave them back to the boy. "Keep your magic from your brother, but not your self. Be the big brother he needs." He reached into a pouch on his waist and pulled out a set of silver arm cuffs that seemed to sparkle with blue under the light of the full moon. "Wear these. They will keep your power in check."

Then he turned to the king. "Keep your son's powers hidden from your kingdom, or they will surely persecute you and your family until there is nothing left." With a nod from the king, the elder troll rolled away. The king helped Edward onto their loyal steed, then held Andrew close to him and climbed up into the saddle himself.

* * *

In the back of the clearing, hidden by shrubs, a young blonde girl and her pet moose saw everything that happened between the king and the elder troll. She wasn't sitting hidden for very long before another troll popped up between them, silencing her thinking aloud and declaring in a clearly feminine voice, "I think I'm gonna keep you."

Not that the girl hadn't heard that before. She was a wandering gypsy, interested in the cultivation of ice, and stumbling upon the icy tracks left in the wake of the king's horse had piqued her curiosity enough to follow them. Several of the ice workers had, on multiple occasions, tried to put the young girl into an orphanage. One had even tried to take her home to be raised by his wife. Nobody held much respect for the girl, and most thought she'd never learn the trade. They expected her to give up, to move on, to find something else to take interest in, or to finally be snatched up and secured by adoptive parents. It never worked, though, and the girl had escaped every time, only to reappear at their icy worksites within a couple days.

Now, though... now she had something else to take interest in. She was always a fan of trolls, but had never managed to meet one; now she was in the midst of an entire family of trolls! She couldn't possibly think of any reason to leave, except to go and learn more about the ice trade.

* * *

When the royal family returned to the castle, the boys were laid in their beds, and the servants were called into a meeting with the king. "From today forth, the castle is closed to visitors. Interaction with the townsfolk is to be kept to a minimum. No more tutors for the boys; I'll teach them myself. No more strange children in the halls, no more parties, no more get-togethers. Until my eldest son has come of age, this house will remain dark and dormant."

Besides a murmuring of surprise amongst the staff, the servants nodded in agreement. They didn't know the true story of why, and knew they wouldn't be told the true story unless the king felt the need to do so. Windows were closed, gates were locked shut, and guards were posted at intervals to make sure nobody unauthorized got into the castle grounds.

And thus it was, for the next ten years.


	2. Chapter 2

Edward Fröz, age 16, stood at the forefront of a funeral procession for his parents, the late King and Queen of Arrendell. Andrew Fröz, age 15, stood at his side. The two boys contemplated their life and where it might head now that their parents' lives had been claimed by the merciless ocean. 

Since that fateful night in the forest clearing the boys had been closer than ever, but despite their bond, the loneliness that permeated the entirety of the castle had started to take its toll on the boys' psyches. Edward had become reclusive, keeping himself to his room for most of each day. He would usually let Andrew in when he knocked, but for an hour or so each day, Andrew was shut out. And he didn't understand why. 

Andrew, on the other hand, had somehow managed to keep most of the adventurous spirit he'd had as a boy, and tempered that spirit with fantastic dreams of dragons and knights. He wrote stories filled with magic and mystery, and would read these stories to his brother as they drifted to sleep each night. Scenarios were fleeting within the frost-dusted teen's stories, and no story was ever the same as the one before it. In ten years, Andrew had managed to write enough novels to fill his own section of the library. 

The late King, before his unfortunate passing, had managed to tutor the boys in everything from horseback riding to fencing, while their mother concentrated on bringing them up as respectable gentlemen. For every art their father pressed upon them, their mother countered with lessons of manners and respect. But above all, the two brothers were taught that blood was everything, and that family should come first. Love could cure the world, and the bond of family could be as powerful as true love's first kiss. 

As family and friends paid their respects to the deceased, Andrew sidled over to his brother. Andy nudged Eddie with his elbow to get his attention. 

"I guess this means we're alone now, right?" Andrew asked his brother. 

"I guess so," was the reply. 

"We have each other, and we have a dark, dreary, empty castle, filled with servants and no one else..." 

"The law of the land says the kingdom will be kept under the protection of our wisest elders until the time of my ascension to King," said Edward, in a somber tone. "Until then, the castle stays locked up." 

"Aww." 

Both boys stared at their parents' memorials in silence. There seemed to be nothing else to say.

* * *

After the funeral, Edward retreated to his room. He asked his brother for some time alone, and to ensure he was not disturbed, he locked the door behind him. There, within the confines of his space, Edward removed the silver shackled upon his wrists and let go the mystic powers with which he had been blessed since birth. For an hour or so each day, for the past ten years, Edward had learned to hone and control his power over ice. His father had helped him when he could, but the majority of his ability had been self-taught. The elder troll had been correct; his power could be beautiful, but it was highly destructive when left unchecked. 

Within seconds of removing the silver from his wrists, the magic flared. It wanted to be let loose, to explore the castle with the freedom of the air. The room soon filled with snowflakes, and Edward let the snow accumulate for a while before finally pulling the power back in to himself. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent forth his magic to create a statuesque memorial of his father and mother, completely sculpted from ice. The details were perfect, and not a flaw existed in the beautiful craftsmanship. He admired his work for a while, and allowed the stature to watch over him as he worked his skills, but before long it was time to pack up, and all the ice and snow he had created was pulled back into him. He was sorry to see his parents forms melt before his eyes. 

Andrew had retreated to the library at the same time that his brother locked himself in their room. His head was full of emotion, and he could not think of anything he wanted to write. Storytelling had become a coping mechanism for him; a way to deal with the isolationism his father and mother had insisted upon for the last ten years. But now, his parents were gone, and he didn't know how to mourn for them. 

The library was an enormous room, filled to the brim with books on every subject from aardvarks to zygotes. Two spiral staircases spiraled from the middle of the room, around two separate marble pillars, up to a second story, where sat several couches for lounging while reading, as well as a section in the back center where all of Andrew's personal writings were kept. On either side of Andrew's section were tall bay windows that opened outward into the courtyard, and on clear days one could stand at the window and see nearly all corners of the surrounding town. 

He locked himself in the library, and once he was sure he was alone, he pulled a carefully constructed sheet ladder from behind one of the bookcases in his section. He opened one of the bay windows next to his space, tossed the ladder out of it, tied one end to the leg of a nearby table, and nimbly climbed down into the castle courtyard. This had become a daily thing with him over the last five years or so; he could not stand to be inside the castle the way his parents had intended. He needed sunshine, and space, and though he had never dared to sneak beyond the castle's walls, the sounds of children playing in the town outside his "prison" had been companionship enough. 

But the real reason why he wanted outside was so that he could let loose his magic. Andrew could not explain how or why he had magical powers. He just knew that sometime during his fifth year of life, he had begun to feel a surge of power within him, and when concentrated upon, he could call forth a stream of sorcery that seemed to focus on ice. It was great and wondrous, wholly mysterious, and at times it was even dangerous and hard to control, but over the years Andrew had come to learn to control its growing strength. 

Andrew had often wanted to reveal this secret to his brother, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He felt his brother had always kept some kind of secret from him, and so convinced himself that it was only fair to hold one back from Edward. And what better secret to hold on to than one of immense power? 

The young man concentrated today on sculpting using his magic, and did his best to construct a small statue in honor of his parents. The form was unique, the craftsmanship flawless, and their eyes seemed transfixed upon not Andrew, but the entirety of the castle. The pride in their faces was unmistakable, and Andrew wondered aloud if they'd really be proud of him for the special control he wielded. 

He practiced his craft for an hour and a half, stopping only when the light in the sky began to dim. Andrew never tired of casting snowballs and affecting snowflakes, and never once thought of quitting his art for a more "useful" hobby. Over the years his power had grown, but somehow he had learned to control its increases. He knew that, if not for all the practice he had put into it, his power could easily freeze the entire fjord! And nobody had time for that! 

As he shimmied up the ladder, Andrew's thoughts turned to his brother and the life they were about to endure because their parents were gone. He vowed to keep his sibling as safe as he could, but he knew that one day their time together would end. The blood pact they had made that winter night, when under the full moon they snuck out of the castle and into the snow filled courtyard to have a snowball fight, couldn't possibly hold forever. 

Once he reached the library, he pulled his ladder up and stashed it once more behind the bookcase. He felt his stomach grumble in protest of not having anything to eat for a few hours, and wondered if it was yet time for dinner. He unlocked the library and exited, closing the doors behind him, then headed for his brother's room. He knew that, sad as he was and depressing as the situation was, his brother would never pass up on meal time. 

He arrived at his brother's door, and raised his fist to knock, but then he stopped. Coming from inside of their room were the sounds of a mid-winter blizzard, accompanied by sounds of his brother grunting with strain and exhaustion. Andrew dropped to a knee and attempted to look through the keyhole to see what was going on, but there was something blocking the way. He contemplated trying to kick the door down, but he knew that would be impossible; the oak door of their room had been made with longevity in mind, and would be impossible to break down without a team of men and a battering ram. Andrew was completely locked out. 

His bright spirit temporarily dampened by the fact that his brother had locked him out, Andrew again raised his hand to knock. His stomach grumbled to remind him of his original plans, and the black-haired prince dropped his fist in order to find food. His brother didn't want him in there? Fine. His brother would have to pick his dinner from the pieces Andrew didn't want. 

Inside the room, Edward was fencing with a creature made entirely of snow. Edward's right arm was entirely encased in ice. From his fist, also trapped in ice, there stood a rapier of the finest build. It was just as strong as any metal blade, and Edward danced with his instrument in masterfully deadly fashion. This way and that he swayed, nimbly dodging every thrust and slice pointed his way, and the snow golem stumbled around confusedly in his wake. 

The creature itself was an impressive piece of art. It stood roughly five and a half feet tall, its entire body made of tightly packed snow. It had spiked pauldrons made of ice protruding from its shoulders, as well as a mask of ice to protect its face. Its hands were gloved in the finest sleet, and it held an icicle that did as well for a blade as Edward's ice rapier. 

Edward had been dodging the movements of this golem for the last half hour, trying his best to get in a hit or two. He finally succeeded to piercing the creature with his blade, thrusting it straight through where the creature's heart would have been, had it been a human. All movements from either party stopped, and as Edward removed his blade from the golem's heart, he bowed towards it in a respectful manner. The golem bowed in return, signifying the end of the match. 

"You dropped your guard. I took the advantage, and also your life, Olaf," Edward said to his creature as he reduced the ice around his fist and arm to nothing but power. 

"Not really, sir. I haven't a life to lose," was the snow golem's reply. 

Edward merely smirked, then called the enchanted snow and ice back into himself. Satisfied that nothing suspicious was left that might show what he was doing within the room, Edward unlocked the door and let himself out. All that fighting had left him hungry, and now was the best time to go off in search of food. 

Edward walked into the main dining room to find his brother Andrew already chowing down. He took his place at the table, his chair directly across from his brother, and wordlessly loaded his plate with food, and his cup with drink. The two brothers exchanged a couple glances, but dinner took the majority of their attention. It wasn't until dessert was brought out that either of them attempted conversation. 

"I came to get you for dinner," Andrew started. 

"I was busy," came Edward's short reply. 

"I figured as much. I put my ear to your door and I heard you grunting with effort. What were you doing in there?" 

Edward sighed. "I was meditating. Father often spoke of the noises I make while I'm trying to find my center, but I was never aware of any of them. What did I sound like?" 

The inflection in his voice was convincing enough. Andrew relayed to his brother all the sounds he heard, and then he let the subject drop. He was too upset about the passing of his parents to continue to press his brother on anything in the first place. 

After dinner was done, the two brothers washed up and retreated to their room for bed. As they settled in, Edward spoke to his brother. "We'll be okay." 

Andrew sniffled, unable to keep it in any longer. "I miss them, Eddie. I miss them so much." 

Edward climbed out of his bed and into his brother's. He wrapped his arms around Andy and held him tight. "I miss them too," he said, his voice breaking. "But just so you know, I'm not going anywhere." 

The two brothers tightly held each other and cried until they fell asleep.


End file.
